


I'll Shoot Him If It's What You Ask

by louislittletomlintum



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drug Warning, M/M, Robbery, blood warning, gun warning, minor injury, smoking warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7092748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louislittletomlintum/pseuds/louislittletomlintum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>video for robbers by 1975 brought to literary life with zarry as the main pair.</p><p>
  <i>"He touches Zayn’s stubble, acknowledges the tiny flare of prickles on his fingertips. The firm of his adam’s apple. The dip between his collarbones and he can feel the breath flowing through him. He can feel the ink of his tattoos and the bloodstains on his tanned skin. He can feel his pores and his organs and his being.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You look so cool,” are the words he can feel."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Shoot Him If It's What You Ask

“He’s a right fucking arsehole, in’t he?” Zayn questioned Harry as he walked out of the convenience store, tangling his fingers through the younger boys as he clung to the new packet of cigarettes in his other hand.

“Calling us fucking faggots. So fucking what, you know? It’s bullshit. He probably wants to suck a cock worse than you do on the daily, I reckon. Doesn’t have the bollocks to do it though,” he continued with a mutter, Harry giggling as he skipped to catch up with Zayn and tugged on his hand a little.

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry replied, leaning in to peck his cheeks. “You got your smokes,” he added, gesturing to them as they headed around the corner. Harry watched as Zayn put one between his lips and lit it up, his tattooed hand combing the longer stands of his hair back from his face, presumably so he didn’t catch them alight. 

“Still fucking bullshit no matter what I bought, overpriced sack of shit,” Zayn muttered, Harry watching as a small grin spread on the older man’s face. “You honestly don’t care, do you?” he asked with disbelief, Harry supposing the tone was due to his carefree response. His ‘ugly fucking patterned shirt’ - Louis’ fond nickname - was billowing wide open in the wind with only two buttons done up, which was stark contrast to his full coverage, achingly tight black jeans. Zayn always told him he looked gorgeous like that so Harry didn’t care what Louis thought of it. 

“Nah. What’s it to me? We don’t have to go back there,” Harry giggled again, letting Zayn lead him into the diner just a few stores down and over to a booth, a bit further from the majority of the crowd. 

“He was a prick, yeah, but whatever. Lots of pricks round. He really bothered you though huh?” Harry replied, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed the menu, leaning over to pluck the carton of cigarettes from Zayn’s top pocket and fish one out for himself. He lit it, looking at Zayn from under his eyelashes as he did and maybe even sucking in his cheeks a little as he inhaled because he was nothing if not a tease.

Harry didn’t think he could do much better. Zayn was everything he’d want in a boyfriend… fiancé. Husband. They got hitched when they were drunk about a week or so after they met one another and Harry isn’t sure whether it was legally binding or not. Nevertheless he flashes the cheap silver ring (that makes his finger green underneath) off to everyone, letting them know he’s taken by this gorgeous man in front of him. 

“Yeah. Just fucks me off when people demean you, I don’t give a fuck what they call me,” Zayn muttered, Harry trying his absolute best not to swoon as a bored waitress comes over to take their order. Harry gets pancakes and a chocolate milkshake and Zayn gets the all day breakfast and a coffee, and Harry can’t wait to lick the taste of it out of his mouth.

“Could do something about it, you know. Pay ‘im back,” Harry suggested coyly, slowly puffing on his cigarette and blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth as he pushed his legs forward and found Zayn’s to play footsies with.

“Like what? Nicking summat?”

“Nah… well yeah, but I was thinking bigger,” Harry grinned, licking his lips as he propped himself up on his elbows and leant closer, hushing his voice a bit.

“I reckon’ we rob ‘im. Hold ‘im up, you know? You reckon you can getta hold of a pistol, so we would just need’a wave it around and he’ll give up the goods. In and out, ham and cheesy,” Harry decided, cocking an eyebrow at Zayn.

He counted three full seconds before the man quirked into a smile, and before he knew it he had a hand tight in his hair and he was being pulled into a rough kiss. He barely had time to get the fag out of his mouth. 

“You’re a bloody minx, you know. I love you,” Zayn grinned, Harry spilling his giggle into the kiss as he licked at Zayn’s tongue. He always tasted ashy from the smoke but Harry loved that their kisses had that quality to them. 

“I know you do,” Harry smirked, settling back in his seat and smiling smugly.

~

_Harry glances up at Zayn as he lays on the floor, aware of his lungs pushing his chest up and down and he could swear he felt his blood going through his veins. His smile is blinding, lighting the dim room and sitting pretty amongst the red fairy lights and that one lava lamp they found in a secondhand store._

_“You look so cool,” he utters, finding that his hand is now up and reaching. His nose burns and his throat is raw, but he doesn’t care. He’s happy._

_The room spins and his head is fuzzy, and suddenly his hand is filled with Zayn’s fingers. He grins and Zayn kisses his teeth, a laugh bubbling in his throat as he concentrates on the edge of Zayn’s fingernail running over his palm._

~

“Alls I’m saying is,” Louis began, pausing to cough half of his lung up along with some smoke. Harry didn’t know whether he’d just taken a hit or if he was permanently expelling smoke given how much of it he inhaled. “That you need’a getaway driver. And who’s a better driver than me?” He questioned, flailing his arms out and nearly knocking over the bong which Niall rushed to sit up and remove from the area.

“Literally anyone,” Liam muttered, instantly receiving evil eyes from Louis. 

“Shut it, Payno. I’m just saying. You think you’re gonna wander out happy as Larry? Fat fucking chance mate, they’re gonna call the paddy wagon and have you shipped off in no time. You need a crew. A heist crew!” he announced grandly, and Harry could just feel Zayn rolling his eyes.

Harry was sat on Zayn’s lap, one of the mans hands on his arse and the other holding his cigarette. The room was hazy from the gauzy curtains along with the smoke and Harry felt like his brain was ticking slower than normal. He didn’t usually have a puff but tonight he just felt like it, so he was blissfully mulling over what was being said and letting the words wash over him. 

“S’hardly a heist. Just wanna give the bastard a fright,” Zayn muttered, patting Harry’s bum. “Right chook?” he asked, Harry nodding softly and biting Zayn’s neck in response. It seemed like the right thing to do.

“I can get ya’s a pistol,” Niall announced, leaning back in his chair. 

“And I can drive,” Liam suggested, getting narrowed eyes from Louis again.

“ _I_ can drive,” Louis corrected, Liam rolling his eyes.

“I’ll drive,” 

“Then what the fuck am I gonna do? Sit here on me arse while you lot have all the fun? Yeah fucking right. I’m coming with. You can use me van, so then I have to come. Protect the sanctity of my Mystery Machine and all ‘a that,” Louis decided, nodding as if it confirmed it for everyone.

“When did this turn into a school trip? I’ll be collecting permission slips soon,” Zayn sighed, tilting his head against the back of the couch a bit because Harry found that Zayn’s skin tasted quite nice, in fact so nice he just wanted to keep licking and sucking and biting it.

“Oi, would you two kindly stop making out, ta? We’re planning the school excursion,” Louis replied, rolling his eyes and sitting forward as he prepared for his next announcement. The chair creaked and he leant his elbow on his knee, pointing his fingers at each of them in turn and giving them each a red eyed glance.

“Supply, driver, eye candy, action man, and me? I’m the head honcho. The fucking pitch and toss! The rogue,” Louis announced, throwing his hands out again and knocking his beer over. He tossed it a glance before shrugging and looking back, grin wide across his face. “And with that, lads, I reckon we have ourselves a plan,”

Harry mulled it over in his head, thinking it might be a bit of fun for them to all work this out. It wouldn’t hurt, either, to have a bit of extra dosh.

“I think that’s a great plan, Louis,” he smiled sincerely, blinking slowly from the weed thrumming through him and finding he now had Zayn’s mouth on his neck, which made him smile even more. 

“Speaking of good plans,” Zayn murmured, hands slipping down towards the front of Harry’s jeans which had all three of the other boys immediately standing up to leave and mouthing off about it.

“For fuck’s sake! Right. Before you start literally blowing one another, I say we regroup once Ni susses the Lady of Bristol, right? Oh- Christ,” Louis shouted at them, covering his eyes when Harry pulled Zayn’s shirt off of him and storming out. He let the door slam behind them which had Harry giggling more, his leg wrapping around Zayn as he pulled him down.

~

_Harry tips the bag upside down, notes spill out and he sees one smudged with blood. He giggles and picks it up, inspecting the spill and waving it at Zayn._

_“Look,”_

_He watches as Zayn turns to him, eyeing the matching stains on Zayn and giggling even more._

_“Look, look, it- you match,” he insists, music from their player washing through his ears along with the other boys voices, but just the dull rumbles of it._

_“We match,” Zayn agrees, pushing Harry back against the couch with a hand on the back of his head to cradle him, protecting. He meets their lips and Harry’s in love all over again._

~

Harry looked on as Zayn turned the pistol over in his hands, absently pinching his bottom lip as he eyed it. He tuned back into the conversation at hand, dismissing his thoughts about just how /nice/ Zayn’s fingers looked wrapped around - well, anything.

“So like, it’s real, yeah? Not some piece of shit you dug up from some dodgy bugger?” Zayn queried, raising an eyebrow as he gripped it proper, aiming it at the far wall and shutting one eye so he could hit his imaginary target.

“What do you take me for? Course it’s real. Only had enough for six rounds, though, so you better be careful. Don’t waste nowt,” Niall insisted, nodding at him and glancing around as he took a puff of his ciggie. 

“Right, I’m off, yeah? Look after it. I’ll see ya when it goes down,” he added, clapping Zayn on the shoulder and smiling at Harry, tugging on the end of his scarf he had wrapped around his hair and then knocking his chin gently. “Keep an eye on him,” he noted before wandering off towards his car, Harry glancing after him before looking back to Zayn.

“Look at this, babe. Proper bad man now. Brap,” Zayn grinned, turning the gun sideways and making small booms with his mouth, the echoes from it reverberating around the half depleted warehouse they’d found themselves in. Harry hadn’t a clue why they had to suddenly meet in secret now there was a revolver involved. 

“You should be careful, like Ni said. It could go off or summat,” Harry murmured, watching Zayn spin it around on his finger and grab it again.

“Won’t go off, babes, ‘less I pull the trigger,” Zayn grinned, pointing it at Harry and chuckling a little, aiming it between his eyes. “Just a toy,”

“Zayn,” Harry murmured, widening his eyes and then glowering. “Stop. That’s dangerous,” 

“Just having a laugh with ya,” Zayn giggled, standing up and aiming it at him again, stumbling a little and then giggling some more. 

“That’s not funny,” Harry snapped, stepping back and looking into his eyes. He lightly pushed the gun away from where it was aimed at himself and turned to walk off, knowing he couldn’t really go anywhere but he didn’t appreciate being used as faux target practise.

He sat on the hood of Zayn’s cadillac as the sun set around him, watching his boy drink and stumble and wave his new revolver around and wondered what he would do if it accidentally went off at him. As a kid he’d always loved Romeo and Juliet. He never saw the stupidity the other kids did in how the characters offed themselves for one another. All he could do was swoon and hope that one day he’d find someone he wouldn’t care about killing himself for. 

That was his ideal. A love so absolute that there was nothing better. An intricacy with someone and such a tightly wound feeling deep inside of himself that if that other half was cut off he couldn’t go on. He knew it was kind of fucked up, and his mother told him to never romanticise soulmates, but he couldn’t help it. He knew deep down that he was half of a whole and he truly believed Zayn was the other.

“I’m angry with you,” Harry murmured when Zayn finally came over to see him, the drunk man stepping between Harry’s legs as he sat on the edge of the car. The sky was bleeding and the air was so silent it was still around them.

“I know,” Zayn mumbled, leaning down to kiss him softly. Harry could taste the bitterness of spirits, both alcoholic and a rough life lived. “But I love you,”

Harry kissed him back and looked up into his eyes, letting out a minute sigh and biting his bottom lip as he eyed the pistol precariously tucked into Zayn’s worn belt. 

“I love you too,”

~

_Harry opens his mouth as Zayn places a cigarette between his lips, puffing obediently and humming as it was taken away. He grins as he gets his gums coated, teasingly sucking on Zayn’s finger as he pulls it out._

_“Cheeky,” he hears Zayn say, but it’s a mile away because all Harry can do at the moment is feel. All his other senses are shutting down to heighten that one._

_He touches Zayn’s stubble, acknowledges the tiny flare of prickles on his fingertips. The firm of his adam’s apple. The dip between his collarbones and he can feel the breath flowing through him. He can feel the ink of his tattoos and the bloodstains on his tanned skin. He can feel his pores and his organs and his being._

_“You look so cool,” are the words he can feel._

~

Harry took a deep breath as he sat on the fence, filling his lungs with tobacco as he did so and then letting it out towards the blue sky, his nerves washing away with it. Well, a portion of them. He handed it back to Zayn and squeezed his hand tighter, eyeing the convenience store in front of them and clearing his throat.

“What if he has like, that automated locking shite? And he locks the doors or summat?” Harry asked quietly, looking to Zayn and admiring the cut of his jaw as he glanced over him.

“You think a place like that could afford it? We’ll be fine babes. In and out. Lickety split,” he replied, the smoke curling out of his mouth and back into his nose. Harry knew it was because Zayn knew he was watching, but he couldn’t help but find it so attractive. 

He let the silence drag as the cigarette neared its end, before clearing his throat again.

“You nervous?”

“Nah, not really. Whats the worst that could happen?” Zayn replied with a grin, looking deep into Harry’s eyes, so much so he was worried he might see what he was really like. “A little light robbery. Part of his day really, innit?”

Harry stared a little longer before nodding, stealing the cigarette back to have the final puff and with it exhale the rest of his tension. 

“Right, on with it. Love ya,” Zayn smiled, pulling his bandana up over his nose so it covered his face, standing up and patting the van to let the lads know they were heading inside. He pulled the revolver out from his jeans and rolled it in his hands before holding it properly, then let his other hand reach for Harry’s.

Harry pulled his bandana up too, glancing around the barren street before back at Zayn. He took his hand and leant in for fabric covered kiss, closing his eyes and pretending it was the real thing. 

“Love you too,”

~

_Harry watches Zayn fall off of the coffee table and giggles, crawling over to him and blinking in the haze of the room. He can taste the smoke, the cocktail they’ve made in the air but for once he doesn’t care because he’s in on it too. He helped make that._

_“You fell,”_

_“Yeah,” Zayn grins, looking up at him as Harry looks down. He doesn’t know how long they stare until there’s a hand in the back of his hair and it’s gripped tight, guiding him down to crash his lips to Zayn’s._

_“I fell,”_

~

Harry hadn’t heard a gun go off until he heard one three times in quick succession in a banged up old convenience store that he knew sold Zayn’s favourite brand of cigarettes for two quid more than anywhere else. Despite having seen the revolver multiple times before they went in he didn’t think he would ever hear it, or have to deal with the situation that followed something like that.

He didn’t see it happen but he heard Zayn’s shout when he was struck with a bullet, his heart jumping to his throat and his hand tightening around the freshly filled bag of notes. 

Adrenalin kicked in and he could only focus on one thing - getting them the fuck out of there.

He pulled back and managed to smack the gun out of the store owners hand, grabbing Zayn’s arm as he whipped past and dragged him to the door, produce falling off the shelves as they went past but he never said he wasn’t clumsy. 

The sunlight bathed them as they broke free, and all Harry could see when he looked down Zayn’s torso was the colour red so he gave him another tug until they stumbled and fell into the awaiting van, already taking off with the doors barely pulled behind them.

“He got hit,” Harry informed the boys as if it weren’t obvious, holding Zayn’s head as he writhed and yelled in pain and tried to soothe him.

“No shit, love. Christ! The fuck happened?” Louis asked, crowding round and plucking the almost permanent ciggie from his own lips. 

“Z! Zayn, have a puff a’ this, mate, set you right,” he insisted, holding the cigarette to the boys lips and watching as he took a deep but shaky draw, Harry pressing a shirt he found to where the blood was because he saw it on the telly once.

“The- he was filling up the bag, and we were about to leave, then he whipped it out from nowhere and shot at him. I think only one hit,”

“Well I hope to christ it was only one, love. Might have to go down t’ surgery if it was two,” Zayn managed to get out along with a little giggle, grinning up at him and looking around. “Gimme another puff, lad. It’ll all be ace in a min,” he insisted, wincing as the car bumped over a pothole but grinning through it.

Harry quietly wondered how it felt to be shot.

~

_The diner isn’t packed. It never is. Harry manages to easily have a line in the bathroom before coming back out to the table he and Zayn are at, sniffling a little and twitching his nose._

_He has a new leather jacket and they ordered whatever the fuck they wanted to, because a seven quid milkshake was the least of their problems. At least for the next few weeks until the dosh they nicked ran out._

_Zayn’s got a new tattoo, proud in the centre of his chest and Harry’s already covered every inch of it with his lips. He slides a napkin that he’s written on across the table to Zayn, holding a secret inside of it that the two of them share._

~

Harry never thought he would have to remove a bullet with a pair of tweezers but he supposed there was technically a first time for everything. When he pulled it out he dropped it in the sink, the metal hitting the porcelain and winding around, leaving a crimson trail behind it and he watched it settle to a stop.

He glanced in the mirror behind Zayn, catching sight of himself. His hair was a state and his shirt was ripped, his green eyes still black with adrenalin and complexion pallor. Zayn’s blood stained his face, splotches smeared in the rush of the moment and forgotten in an instant.

“You look so cool,” Zayn grinned, grabbing Harry’s jaw and pulling him in for a rough kiss, teeth briefly knocking before they became tongue tied. 

Zayn grabs his throat but Harry’s never breathed easier.


End file.
